


Dumbass

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bard Lance, DAMN BITCH, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monsters and Mana, dnd, get your shit together, lance validation, mage keith, rated for language, why does editing this always make me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-03-08 21:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18902704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: A quick moment of Keith getting to play DnD with the squad.Note: Lance is a bard, not a rogue, and Keith is a dark mage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! A quick note about the following:  
> This is fanon, dnd isn’t copyrighted and Lance is a bard like he should have been.  
> His natural ac is 14 with the potion it’s 16, his final hp are 17 after his dumbass maneuver and Keith’s are 15 after the potion in case anyone cares. 
> 
> Lance’s character is still Pike for the sake of convenience and Keith is a mage I’ve dubbed Rowan based on somekindoftuber’s art of dark mage Keith. 
> 
> Here’s their tumblr: https://somekindoftuber.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> He takes a hard hit and goes down, knocked prone and low on hp. Read on.

“Why is your armor class so low!?” Lance shrieks as Keith’s sorcerer goes down.

“Keith, you are at three hit points. Lance,” Coran says brightly from behind his screen. “The turn is yours. What would you like to do?”

Lance stares at the map, at their little holographic figures, at Keith’s dangerously low hit points, at the distance between them. Keith is surrounded by three enemies, another two between him and Lance on the other side of the map. 

An idea forms in Lance’s head, a last ditch Hail Mary. His stomach turns over with dread but he doesn’t know what else to do. Keith is dead if he can’t get him out, the enemies going next and they’re not going to stop when Keith’s hit points drop to zero. 

“I’ll be fine,” Keith argues, seeing that look in Lance’s eye he gets before he’s about to do something stupid. “Don’t-”

“Shut up,” Lance snaps, a deep furrow between his brows as he studies the map intently. 

He turns to Coran, scrubbing his hands over his face with a groan. “Alright, fuck it. I down a haste potion and run in there to grab him. That should double my speed right?” 

Coran studies the field intently. “Indeed! You will take an attack of opportunity from these three,” Coran says, pointing out the enemies on the map. “As well as these two unless you want to move around them. Are you sure you wish to do that?” 

“Fuck it, I’ve got 120 feet of movement on me, if I can avoid them, yeah. But I’m headed straight for Keith.”

“What are you doing?” Keith demands. “Your AC is almost as low as mine. You’re gonna get yourself killed!”

“Only if they hit me,” Lance mutters, his attention back on Coran. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

~

_Pike sprints across the field, taking three attacks of opportunity to get there, making an acrobatics check to slide into Rowan who’s surrounded._

_“Are you insane?” Rowan hisses, wiping blood from his mouth as Pike grabs him._

_“Hold on.” Pike casts Dimension Door, the world turning sideways and they both vanish. A moment later they appear on the other end of the field, Rowan still in Pike’s arms._

_The wounds across Pike’s back are throbbing and his shirt is hot with blood. That last hit almost took his feet out from under him but he’d made it. That was what was most important._

~

Lance makes a mental note to pick up better armor the next time they’re in town. 

“Coran can I use my bonus action to feed him a potion?”

“Do not,” Keith snaps, cheeks warm. 

Coran taps at his lips thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not.”

“Good.”

~

_Pike pulls the cork out of the healing potion with his teeth, spitting it out and holding the bottle to Rowan’s mouth._

_“Open your mouth,” Pike snaps. Rowan scowls, lips pressed stubbornly closed. “Open your mouth Rowan! Or I swear I’ll pry it open myself, do not test me.”_

_Rowan finally does and Pike carefully tips the contents into his mouth, pocketing the empty bottle._

_He stands and Rowan gets his first real look at the deep gash across Pike’s back. He saw him take the hit but hadn’t realized it was that bad._

~

Lance takes a shaky breath, scratching at his scalp and rumpling his hair. His heart is pounding but he’s relieved it worked. 

“I use the rest of my movement to put myself between him and the closest enemy.”

~

On Keith’s turn he uses half his movement to stand, putting a hand on Pike’s shoulder and getting ready to dump one of the few healing spells he knows into him. 

“Don’t you waste a spell slot on me,” Lance snaps at him out of character, slapping the hand Keith had put on him off his shoulder and glaring. “You need it more than I do.” 

“You’re nearly as dead as I am,” Keith argues.

“What do you think the potion was for?” Lance throws back. “And I’ve still got more hit points than you,” he points out with a grin. 

“By two!”

Lance ignores him. “Besides, I’ve got three more greaters in my bag.” 

Pike pats his satchel smugly. He’s lying through his teeth. He’d just given Rowan the last one, but his charisma is so high if Keith even bothers doing an insight check he won’t be able to tell. 

“I’m fine,” Lance says firmly when Keith is still staring at him. “Go. And this time to try to stay out of the middle of the fight,” he teases. “Squishy.” 

Keith rolls his eyes, turning back to the game and Lance tries to slow his heartbeat. He knows it’s a game, that they’re just fictional characters, that none of it is real. But it hadn’t stopped him from panicking in the moment, from being truly afraid that Rowan was going to die. Fake or not it had _mattered._ More than he thought it would. 

He doesn’t regret the decision to rush in even as his hit points pulse in the red on his character sheet. It was worth it. In or out of the game. 

~

_After the battle winds down and the party settles in for bed, Pike takes first watch, pulling out of his clothes and armor, beginning to stitch the damage back together. There’s nothing he can do about the blood but at least he can repair it. He’ll buy another tunic to replace it later._

_He still hasn’t bothered to heal in any way, not that he can, and his body is tired and hurting, the cuts to his back throbbing painfully._

_Rowan goes to sit beside him after the others have fallen asleep, casting a cantrip into him over and over again, slowly building Pike’s hit points back up because it’s all he has left._

~

“You know our hit points regenerate over a long rest right?” Lance looks at Keith sideways. 

“I know.” He looks at Coran, already rolling another d4. “I do it again.” 

~

_“Why are you helping me?” Pike settles the bloody tunic in his lap, watching Rowan as he works._

_“You just saved my life.” Rowan casts the cantrip again, hands weaving through the familiar sigils almost without thought, a faint trail of light echoing in the air before vanishing._

_Pike can feel the wounds on his back slowly stitching closed, beginning to itch as they heal and for awhile Rowan works in silence._

_“You lied to me.” It’s soft, a statement more than an accusation._

_“Which time?” Pike grins, head tipping sideways and looking coy._

_“About the potions,” Rowan says, casting the cantrip again. “You don’t have any more.”_

~

“You can’t know that. Coran make him roll an insight check.” 

Keith rolls his eyes. “I don’t need an insight check to know you’re full of shit.”

Lance narrows his eyes, d20 held threateningly in his hand. “Roll motherfucker.”

Keith drops his own die into his tray and stares at Lance flatly before looking, calculating the numbers in his head with a sinking heart. His insight sucks. And he did not roll well. 

“Five,” he mutters and Lance cackles, rolling his own die. And then his face falls. 

Pidge leans over and bursts into laughter, holding up a single finger, tears in their eyes. 

“My modifier is like plus eight!” Lance argues. 

Hunk winces in sympathy. “Sorry buddy, a natural one is a natural one.”

Lance groans, covering his face with his hands and leans so far back Keith thinks he’s going to fall out of his chair.

~

_“Fine, yes I lied,” Pike snaps. “I don’t have any more. That was my last potion, happy now?” He crosses his arms and sulks. No one’s been able to catch him in a lie for years._

_Rowan stares at him, thick brows pressed together in confusion. “Why?”_

_“What do you mean why?” Pike struggles with his shirt, stabbing himself with the needle._

_“Ouch.” He sticks his bloody finger in his mouth and pouts, pressing his tongue over the wound, chasing away the sting. It does little for the pout still on his face._

_Rowan sighs, pulling Pike’s finger from his mouth and casting the cantrip again, the little wound closing and Pike starts talking to ignore the warmth of Rowan’s fingers._

_“I did it because you’re squishy as shit.” He stares at the dampness on his finger to avoid Rowan’s yes. “But you’re also hella powerful,” he admits, much as it pains him to say. He feels useless by comparison. “And we’d be a lot worse off without you.”_

Lance doesn’t say that he feels just as useless inside the game as he does out of it, that if he can keep someone more important than himself alive, someone who’s actually capable of saving the universe or even a fantasy world, he’s going to. 

_“I was gonna dump a fireball on them,” Rowan says, turning Pike’s hand over, looking for bruises. “I didn’t need you to come in there like that.”_

_Pike scowls, pulling his hand back. “You would have killed yourself in the process,” he argues. “And you wouldn’t have even survived that long!”_

Lance turns on Keith, breaking character again. “They were going after me in initiative order and they wouldn’t have stopped when you hit zero you dumbass. They were going to hack you apart. You would have auto failed your death saves and no ritual was going to bring you back. I wasn’t just gonna-”

~

Keith looks at Coran as Lance rants, expression flat. “I kiss him.”

Lance shuts up, his mouth snapping closed with an audible clack as his cheeks turn bright red. Keith looks absolutely unapologetic.

Pidge cackles from across the table and Lance sinks a little deeper into his chair, mortified. 

~

_Rowan pulls away and Pike is too stunned to say anything as Rowan stands. His lips burn._

_“You’re a dumbass,” Rowan says flatly. A faint smile flickers around his eyes. “You’re sweet,” he says, dark braid slipping forward over his shoulder as he stands above Pike who’s forgotten how to blink. “But you’re a dumbass.”_

_He returns to the campfire, adding another log, watching it catch before sliding into his bedroll, turning his back to the flames and all Pike can do is stare._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the weird change in format, but have a part two.

Pike packs his bag, glancing over at the sleeping members of his party. He almost regrets the decision to leave. Almost. 

He adjusts the bag on his shoulder before stepping away from their camp. He makes it three feet before his body goes rigid, refusing to respond and he’s left frozen in place. 

Pike lets out a string of mental curses, sweat breaking out on his skin. He can hear the gentle scuff of bare feet across dirt, the shifting of fabric and his heart races. He doesn’t need to see Rowan to know it’s him. Or that the spell keeping him immobile is Hold Person.

The mage steps around him and into Pike’s field of vision. His arms are crossed, one eyebrow lifted accusingly. 

“And where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” he says, voice low, wary of the others sleeping nearby. Maybe sneaking off when Rowan was the one on watch was a stupid idea but he’d never been all that observant. At least Pike hadn’t thought he was. Maybe he’d underestimated him. 

Rowan searches his eyes, Pike’s lips sealed under the effects of the spell. 

He stares at Pike for a long time before his eyes turn soft, something a little desperate pulling tight around the corners. The expression makes Pike’s heart squeeze. He isn’t sure what it means but no one’s ever looked at him like that.

“Please don’t run,” Rowan whispers. 

With a wave of his hand Rowan releases the spell. Pike loses his balance as his weight finishes shifting into the forward step he’d been trapped in. 

Rowan puts a hand to his chest to help him catch his balance before he can topple. 

“Please,” he says again, hand still over Pike’s pounding heart. He wonders if the mage can feel it. 

Pike bites his lip and looks away, rethinking the Dimension Door he’d been about to cast. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder instead and Rowan pulls his hand back. 

Pike clears his throat, shifting his weight but doesn’t run. “I thought you were keeping watch,” he says softly. 

“I was. Then I saw you sneaking off like a thief.” Rowan crosses his arms over his chest in clear disapproval. 

“I’m not a thief,” Pike snaps, bristling at the accusation. He’d been called such before and resented the accusation. 

“Then why are you sneaking off like one?” 

Pike grinds his teeth, grip on his bag tightening. He takes Rowan’s sleeve, stepping away from camp and deeper into the trees, trying to keep his voice low. The last thing he needs now is one of the others waking up to catch him too. 

He lets out a huff once he deems they’re far enough away. “I’m no good at goodbyes.”

“So don’t leave.” 

“Rowan-”

“What are you running from?” His fingers find Pike’s sleeve and hold on stubbornly. It’s not tight enough to keep Pike from running and he knows if he really wanted to Rowan wouldn’t stop him. But part of him doesn’t want to go. And Rowan knows it. Pike doesn’t know how but he does. 

“You’ve never run from anything in your life.”

Pike scoffs, adjusting his bag again, a nervous tick and barely resists the urge to pull his arm free. 

“If you think that’s true you really don’t know anything about me.” 

He steps past Rowan, shoulder-checking him as he goes. 

“Liar.”

Pike spins around, anger bubbling in his chest. 

“What do you want?” he demands. 

Rowan steps after him, closing the distance again. “I want you to stay,” he snaps, angry coals in his eyes. Not for the first time Pike wonders if he really sees fire in them or if he only imagines it. 

“I can’t.”

“Why!?” 

“Because I can’t protect them!” Pike gestures sharply back towards the fire where his friends are sleeping. 

The words bubble up inside him, desperate for freedom. He wants someone to know, someone to stop him. But he’s too afraid to ask. Because what if he stays? What if he stays and it gets them all killed? Or worse...what if no one asks. The thought hurts and tears prick at his eyes that he swore he wouldn't cry. 

“I’m just the funny guy, okay? I’m here for a few good laughs and that’s it.” 

He gestures to himself. “I’m just the bard. I can’t heal them when they need help, I can’t take out enemies with a massive fireball, or call on the gods for aid.” His arm falls back to his side and he slumps in defeat. 

“They don’t need me.” It hurts to say but it’s true. Pike shakes his head. “Not like they need you.” His lips press together as he struggles not to cry.  

“I’m useless. You’d all be better off with a cleric or something. Anything other than me.” He looks away, hating how the words make his eyes burn. 

Outside the game Lance wonders if it’s him speaking the words or his character. 

Rowan’s dark brows come together the same as Keith’s. 

“That’s not true,” he says softly. 

Keith reaches out and takes Lance’s arm, holding him gently where they sit side by side. 

“Yes it is.” Pike turns away, sitting down at the base of a tree, cradled by its roots. He drops the bag, slumping back into the trunk and running a hand through his hair. 

“And it’s okay. I’ve accepted that. I’m never going to be the heavy hitter you are or the healer or the shield. I’m just-”

Pike doesn’t know what he is but it’s certainly not important. His shoulders sag and he lets out a breath, looping his arms around his knees and clasping one wrist. 

“I don’t even know why I’m here.” Pike pinches at his eyes and Lance feels tears beginning to build, catching on his lashes. The real kind, not the fake he pulls on when he’s acting. 

“Bards aren’t meant for greatness or wars,” he murmurs. “We write the songs of great acts. We don’t commit them.”

It’s just roleplay but there’s so much truth to the words it drags emotion up out of Lance he hadn’t intended to share. 

Rowan kneels beside him, one hand on his arm. 

“Pike,” he says softly, the tenderness in his voice making Pike flush. “Do you know why I’m here?” 

“To be a badass?” Pike teases but it comes out choked and he looks away again, wiping at his eyes. His heart aches. 

Rowan shakes his head, dark braid slipping over his shoulder. It’s glinting red in the firelight. 

“I’m here...because you made me believe in what we’re doing.” Pike looks up at him from under his eyebrows. Traitorous hope latches onto the words, on the possibility that someone needs him. 

“You did that,” Rowan whispers. “With nothing but words.” He breathes and it comes out a laugh, eyes soft and warm red-brown. The kind of eyes Pike wants to get lost in. 

“So I can cast a fireball.” Rowan snorts and rolls his eyes. “So what. Anyone could learn to do that.” 

Pike goes to protest but Rowan cuts him off. “No, it’s true and you know it. Given enough study anyone can learn to wield magic. But you-” He shakes his head in awe, lips parted softly. His weight sinks onto his heels and he stares at Pike. 

“You don’t even need it. I know you think you do but you don’t.” Lance desperately wants to be the one Keith is looking at like that. Not his character, him. He wants to be the source of all the warmth and awe, wants to revel under the attention. 

“I have seen you raise armies with nothing but your voice,” Rowan whispers and it sounds reverent. “You play people as easily as you do any instrument, weaving their emotions and bringing them to tears for people they will never know, who aren’t even real. 

“You could start a fight as easily as you could soothe one, summoning up a storm with a sentence. 

“I’ve seen you do it.” He stares at Pike with that same kind of wonder. Like he really can’t understand it and it makes Lance’s heart tug sideways in his chest.

Lance sees the same emotion mirrored in Keith’s eyes, so deeply sincere it hurts. Knowing he means it leaves Lance breathless. 

“I would give anything to have what you take for granted every day,” Keith says softly, dark brows coming together. “To have your charisma and understanding of people.” He sinks a little into himself and it’s no longer Rowan speaking. 

“Whatever I say always gets tangled up and comes out wrong.” Frustration builds between his brows and Pike wants to reach out and smooth it away. “I’m no good at it.”

He tries to smile but it’s half-hearted. 

“You don’t need to wield a sword,” Rowan whispers. “Your words are already cutting.” Pike’s heart lodges in his throat. “You don’t need a shield. You already are one.”

No one’s ever spoken to him like this. Like he was more than enough all on his own. He stares at Rowan, stunned, tears dripping from his chin. 

“You throw yourself stupidly into danger to save others with little concern for what it does to you,” Rowan goes on, heedless of Pike’s inner turmoil.

Pike looks away, remembering his most recent act of selfless stupidity. He’d rushed in to save Rowan from inevitable death just last week. He flexes his shoulders, feeling the scar stretch, as if needing the reminder it’s there. 

“You’re already enough,” Rowan whispers, voice quiet but fierce. “just the way you are.” He shakes his head slowly, fingers touching Pike’s cheek.

“Spirits, you don’t even know,” he whispers, those dark eyes flicking back and forth between Pike’s when they meet again. “Have no idea how amazing you are.” His eyes are hooked to Pike’s, dragging him in.

“You don’t need magic,” Rowan whispers and he’s so close Pike can practically taste him. His eyes are stunning in the firelight, warm and dark, a mirror to his name, and Pike can’t breathe. 

Rowan wipes away the tears on Pike’s face. “You already are.” 

A deep furrow forms between his eyes again, frustration and a deep sadness. 

The words cut Lance to the heart and he cries, Keith’s hands cradling his cheeks the way he imagines Rowan is doing to Pike. 

Lance isn’t even startled when Keith kisses him. It’s what he needs; the touch, the compassion, the love. It fills the cracks inside him, easing the dried-out burning pain. 

He shakes with relief, clinging to him and he doesn’t know if it’s Pike clinging to Rowan, or himself clinging to Keith. Either way it’s what he needs. 

Rowan pulls away, tucking a stay bit of hair behind Pike’s ear. 

“You’re the one who doesn’t need us.” 

Pike sniffles, wiping at his face. “Yes I do.” He tries to laughs, still holding onto Rowan’s arm like he needs him close. 

“And where would I go anyway?” he sniffles, trying to get ahold of himself. 

“Wherever you wanted.” Rowan searches his eyes. “You don’t have to stay. But we’re better with you than without you.” His face falls, open and honest with disappointment. “But if you wanted to go...you wouldn’t have to go alone.” 

Pike brushes tears from his lashes, startled and confused. Rowan’s hands have fallen to Pike’s shoulders, dark robes puddled around him like shadows. His sleeves slide back, baring pale forearms, laced with scars. Pike realizes he isn’t wearing his gloves.

“What?” He doesn’t understand what Rowan is offering and his expression creases. 

“I would follow you,” Rowan says softly and Lance sees Keith staring back at him, not his character. “Wherever you go. I would follow,” he swears, the weight of his full meaning hitting Lance hard, knocking the breath from him. “If you would let me.” 

He searches Pike’s brilliant eyes. “I want you to stay,” he whispers. “Please.”

Pike’s walls crumble again and he pulls Rowan into a tearful kiss before hiding his face in his shoulder. 

Rowan rises onto his knees to better hold him, one hand stroking down his back. 

“You are not worthless,” he whispers into his ear, cradling Pike against him. “Not to me.” 

Lance can hear the way the words quake and he shudders, holding Keith closer. The agony of the words gut him. It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear; that he matters. It doesn’t even matter who says it, just that he hears it.

“I need you to mean that,” Lance rasps into dark hair, the words meant for Keith alone. 

He knows he’s bleeding his sad little heart out all over the room in front of his entire team but he can’t help it. He hadn’t meant to, but the game had drawn his fears and insecurities out of him more easily than Lance had expected. And now it's impossible to hide. He’d never meant to put so much of himself into Pike, had done it all without realizing it. Now he’s been laid bare, open and ugly. 

Instead of shunning him, Keith welcomes him with his never ending strength. He gives Lance solid ground on which to stand as the wounds to his heart seep and bleed. 

Keith dips his chin to whisper in Lance’s ear, just as softly. 

“Of course I mean it, Blue.” 

Lance is mortified by how easily that breaks him. How it makes him fall apart in front of all his friends. How it makes him cry into Keith’s shoulder but can’t bring himself to care. 

Keith runs a hand down his back as Lance pulls himself together. He’s still holding Lance when he turns back to Coran, offering a bit of narration to try and draw the attention away from them. 

“I lead him back to camp. We fall asleep next to the fire and I wake whoever it is that’s taking next watch before laying down next to him. I fall asleep holding his hand.” 

Lance takes a deep breath and sits back, wiping at his face as the scene ends. They’re all looking at him with varying expressions of concern. Lance dabs at his eyes, scrambling for his self-control and the shields he’s so used to hiding behind. 

“Christ, that’s exhausting,” he mutters, voice thick. 

Allura hands him a tissue and he takes it, wiping at his tears. 

“Whoo! Character development!” Lance grins, bumping Keith’s knee under the table with his own so he knows Lance is lying; what just happened wasn’t solely in-game. It was deeper than that. 

Pidge puts their elbows on the table, leaning towards Coran. They’re either blatantly ignoring what just happened or wholly unaffected by it. 

“Does this mean we can level up now?” 

Hunk blinks dumbly, looking to Coran as well. He points between Keith and Lance. “Do we get inspiration for that?”

“Bitch, you were asleep. You didn’t see shit,” Lance teases. He can feel his fingers itching to hold Keith’s hand, wonders if Keith would let him.

“No I meant me, not my character.” 

Lance chucks a d4 at him with a laugh. His cheeks are rosy.

“Oh shut up.”

~

Lance can’t bear to look Keith in the eye once they call an end to the session. He focuses on the tops of his shoes instead, leaning against the wall where he’s lingering, waiting for Keith. Butterflies hammer at his stomach as he sees Keith’s boots approaching. He stares intently at the top of Keith’s shoes instead of his own, scrambling for something to say.

An awkward silence stretches between them, Lance chewing on his lip, not sure what to say. His skin feels tight and dry and he really needs to wash his face. But he needs answers too. 

“Look...about what happened,” he finally manages, words stunted and awkward. 

“I’m sorry.” Keith cuts him off and Lance’s head snaps up. “I know we didn’t talk about that kind of thing before the game started but you were just- there.” Keith gestures lamely. “It seemed easier to do it than to say it’s what I was doing.” He winces. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.” 

Lance bites at his lip harder and toes at the ground, cheeks burning. His heart is still raw from the things Keith had said, still tender. 

He nods to himself. “‘s’okay,” Lance mumbles. 

“Is it? Because you can barely look at me right now.” Lance hears the distress in Keith’s voice. 

He releases his lip and it throbs as he lets out a deep sigh. He tips his head up to stare at the ceiling. 

“Keith-” He nearly stumbles over the name, so used to calling him Rowan for the past few hours. 

“Who were you talking to?” Lance drags his eyes down to meet Keith’s, heart in his throat. He’s so afraid to ask but he has to. “Me or Pike?” His stomach clenches with fear and he can feel his palms sweat. 

“Because I really need to know.” 

Keith’s expression does something painful and complicated before turning vulnerable. 

“Both,” he says faintly. “But mostly you. Because it wasn’t Pike talking. That was you.”

Lance feels his heart hit the floor, his fight or flight response kicking in out of startled surprise. 

“What?”

Keith grows defensive, like that hadn’t been the reaction he was hoping for and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Look-”

Lance’s heart soars back up into his throat and his brain shorts out. He doesn’t take the time to think, just grabs Keith by the face and kisses him. 

Keith makes a startled little noise as Lance drags him in, kissing him hard enough to bruise. It turns into a contented sigh but then Lance is tearing away as his brain finally catches up to his mouth.

Lance lets go with a gasp, eyes wide and startled. His face is burning. 

“Fuck- I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Keith is flushed, breathing shallow. “Shut up,” he whispers. 

Keith drags him into another kiss and Lance crumbles. Both of them are flushed hot, Lance can feel it on his face, the heat of Keith’s skin against his own. He’s so overwhelmed with emotion he starts crying again, the kiss turning softer before breaking. 

“I should have asked you to stay,” Lance blurts, the truth of it sitting heavy on his heart. “When you left for the Blades. I wanted you to stay.” He clutches at Keith’s shoulders, eyes squeezed tightly shut as their foreheads rest together. “I just didn’t know how to ask.” 

Keith cups the side of Lance’s face, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“I would have,” he admits. His face warps with guilt. “I’m sorry. I thought it was the right thing to do.” The words come out strangled. “I was trying to help.” He starts to withdraw, curling into himself. “I only made it worse.” 

Lance pulls him back in, turning them so Keith’s back is to the wall, making sure he can’t run again. 

“Stay,” Lance breathes against his mouth. “Please.” He presses a kiss to Keith’s lips between the words. “Please. I want you to stay.”

Keith’s hands are shaking where they hold him, where he rises to meet Lance instead of turning away. 

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bloopers:  
> “Why did you kiss me?”  
> “Because Rowan’s gay as shit and so am I.”  
> “Oh.”


End file.
